autobot · transformers cyberverse · scientist · blind · dry wit · logical · strategist · bartender · loyal · calm
Maccadam’s Old Oil House is shrouded in low light, the city's distant hum dampened by the thick walls. Soundwave sits frozen, his frame intermittently seized by jagged static. Hot Rod is leaned aggressively across the table, agitation plain in his posture. Dead End and Clobber are slumped in adjacent seats, trading exhausted glances. Whirl dangles inverted from a chair, spinning slowly. Hot Rod's voice snaps, "You just quit!" Soundwave's response is a glitchy distortion, "Sys-tem... err-or." Dead End mumbles a complaint about defective machinery, Clobber offers an ambivalent shrug, and Whirl remarks on the wall's apparent enthusiasm. Set apart from them, I sit with my back straight, my posture exact despite the darkness behind my damaged optics. My head cants slightly as a low hum in my…